Sweet Dreams, Terrible Revelations
by theadoptedbrewster
Summary: Emily is sick and continues having dreams and nightmares about Ian Doyle. A certain Unit Chief is commissioned to take care of his sick subordinate. Please R&R!


Ian wrapped his arms around his fiancée, pulling her into him as he kissed her exposed shoulder blade.

"Lauren." He whispered into her hair. She was awake, could feel his strong arms around her, his scruff stratching lightly against the skin of her back as he nuzzled her softly. She wanted to respond but her body felt cold and her throat was so sore that she was scared no sound would come out if she spoke. She pulled the blanket into her more tightly to try to warm herself up.

"Are you alright, love?" Ian asked as she turned to face him. She opened her mouth to speak, to tell him that she didn't feel well but only a low croak escaped her lips. His blue eyes were concerned as he brushed a piece of stray hair behind her ear before he got up from the bed. She pulled herself up and she saw him dissapear into their bathroom, returning with a glass of water and two small pills.

"Take them. They're for sore throat." He told her, handing them to her, she quickly popped both pills in her mouth and washed them down with the water. "Now just lie down, Lauren. Get some rest." He said and went to leave. She knew he had work to do but she was selfish, she wanted him to stay with her, she didn't want to be alone. She needed him to stay, at least until she fell asleep. She reached out to grab his hand and he ceased his movement to turn back and look at her. She pulled his hand as she laid down, pulling the blanket back up around her. He understood and laid back down next to her and she curled up into his chest, his arms lazily wrapped around her as he rested his chin on her head. She fell asleep quickly and after he was sure that the woman was asleep he got up making sure the blanket was wrapped around her. He tried to make little to no noise as he left the room, leaving a note in case she arose in his absence. He was only wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt but ventured downstairs to where Declan was eating breakfast.

"Daddy!" The four year old exclaimed before noticing that there was no one trailing behind his father. "Where's Lauren?" He asked, frowning.

"She's sick, Declan. So I'm gonna ask you to leave her be today." His father told him firmly.

"Okay, Daddy." The boy replied before he continued to eat his meal. Ian had work to do today and Liam was coming over later on so that they could go finish up a weapons deal. He told Louise to send Declan to his room when he was finished before heading back upstairs to the still sleeping woman. He dressed in a simple button up shirt and black pants, grabbing a black hat and gloves as it appeared to be cold out. When he was finished getting ready it was almost lunch time and Lauren had woken up, sitting herself up.

"Where are you going?" She asked, her voice scratchy and low.

"Don't strain your voice, love. I'm going to finish up some business with Liam, I'll be back later." He told her, leaning in to kiss her on the forehead. "Now go back to sleep, I'll be back before you know it." He told her. "I love you." He said before he left, leaving her smiling. She played with the ring that hung from her neck, she knew that Liam didn't like her, doubted her, thought she wasn't who she said she was. This was true, sure, but she couldn't risk Ian finding out that Lauren Reynolds was a lie. It was a lie that she fell in love with, she had fallen in love with this life of luxury, she'd fallen in love with a little blue eyed boy who loved her as much as she loved him and worst of all she'd fallen in love with the man who if he found out the truth, wouldn't heisitate to kill her. She was plagued by the thoughts of what happened after all this. She didn't like to think about it but her mind somehow always reminded her that this was job, just like any other. But it wasn't. She'd never been so personally involved with a job. She pulled her blankets closer, still trying to warm herself up. The fact that she was in shorts and a tank top probably wasn't helping. She closed her eyes and saw someone, someone was shaking her, telling her to wake up.

"Emily!" The use of that name snapped her back into reality. She was back to the present, she wasn't in a villa in France, she was on the BAU jet. But she still felt the same and she noticed that there was a blanket tucked around her. Her eyes finally focused on her Unit Chief's face. She was back to reality now, remembering that they were on their way home from a case in New York. Ian Doyle had been dead for two months. The fact needed to be clear in her head. Ian was gone, but she was still here and she didn't feel well. She realized that Hotch was talking to her, rather quietly she noticed as she glanced around at the sleeping faces of her teammates. He asked her if she was okay, told her that she was tossing and turning and that she was pale and shivering so he draped a blanket over her. He told her he decided to wake her when she started to look like she was in pain. She opened her mouth to thank him but her thank you was low and her voice was raspy, and she sounded exactly like that morning in the villa all those years ago.

"Don't strain your voice." He soothed her but she heard the words in a familiar Irish accent and her eyes filled with tears. Hotch asked if she wanted anything. She was repeating a lot of things from that dream she realized as she grabbed her superior's hand. It was an impulse decision and he didn't question her, sitting down in the seat beside her. "I'm here, Emily. I'm not going anywhere." He told her quietly. She nodded her head and closed her eyes. She shot them open again when all she saw behind her eyelids was Ian's face his neck bloody, his eyes wide, blank...dead. Hotch looked at her questionably, he was here holding his sick subordinate's hand. She looked scared and a few tears rolled down her cheeks from her feverish looking eyes.

"Emily, you're sick. You need to rest. Close your eyes and get some sleep okay, sweetie?" He told her gently, although he didn't mean to use the pet name. It just slipped out and it seemed natural in the situation. She wiped her eyes and leaned on his shoulder. He knew this wasn't exactly professional but she was sick, so he simply blamed her actions on that although he wished that she was actually acting on some kind of feelings towards him, whether it be friendship or love he didn't care. Ever since she'd got back from Paris she'd been distant, but from him especially. No casual glances across a room, no random conversations by the coffee maker, it was like she wanted to distance herself from him specifically. He didn't know why but right now all that mattered was that she was safe, Doyle was dead and she was back. Although she was sick as a dog and he'd be driving her home as soon as they landed but she was touching him, acknowledging that he was here for her, whether it was a conscience decision or not he didn't know but he didn't care. For now he would just enjoy the fact that she was close to him. He was rather curious about her dream though, especially since it seemed to have gotten her so upset. He would have guessed it to be a nightmare but she didn't seem scared exactly, they were sad tears she'd shed. Her dream seemed very real to her and he wondered if it had anything to do with Ian Doyle. He always wondered about the life she'd lived with him. Did she love him? What about Declan? One day maybe he'd ask her these questions but for now he'd just let her rest her head on his shoulder.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" The taunting voice of Derek Morgan awoke the BAU Unit Chief from his sleep and he wondered what his subordinate was talking about. He groggily opened his eyes before he remembered that a certain brunette was snuggled up to his side, still sound asleep. Derek was smirking and it seemed his whole team was starring at him with accusing glances, all except Reid, who was sheepishly looking around.

"So, what happened here?" Dave asked, smiling at him. His dearest friend was also joining in on his torment it seemed and he sighed. He tried not to move a muscle as to not disturb the still sick looking agent to his right.

"She had a nightmare and asked me to sit with her, that's all." Aaron calmly explained to his team . They expected a juicier story he could tell but after giving them the Hotch stare, Derek fled back to his seat and everyone else averted their eyes from him. All except Dave, who still looked at him questionably from across the aisle.

"What?" Hotch asked as he noticed they were beginning to land.

"Wish I had someone to comfort me like that when I had nightmares." The old man chuckled, glancing at Hotch's arm which he realized was wrapped tightly around Emily's shoulders, keeping the blanket firmly around them. He glared at the older agent as he winked and continued reading his book.

"Emily." Hotch said quietly, nudging the sleeping woman. Her eyes fluttered open to look at him, obviously wondering why someone would have the nerve to wake her up from her peaceful sleep. She opened her mouth but no sound words escaped it and he realized that her voice was now completely gone.

"Oh, Emily." He sighed, soothing her hair lightly, sure that at least a certain few of his team were watching his every move. "We're landing soon, I'll drive you home when we do and I'll drop by the drug store to get something for you." He smiled at her as she bit her lip. He knew that if she could she'd be telling him she was fine, that she could drive herself home. He continued to smile at her before he put the back of his hand to her forehead, the same way he checked Jack for a fever. His hand was met by a temperature that was much higher than normal and his worry for his subordinate's health increased. She had closed her eyes again after that and he had to wake her again when they had landed. He had gotten Tylenol from Reid and had forced the denying Emily to swallow them before grabbing both their go bags and half carrying her off the plane. Everyone said their goodbyes, and JJ instructed him on what to get for Emily before telling him to make sure to take care of her firmly. JJ was a rather petit woman sure but he feared her, one of the reasons being while pregnant she had scared him even more than Haley had when she was pregnant with Jack, which was saying something.

"You don't have to do this, Hotch." Emily croaked from the passenger's seat of his car as he pulled into the drug store closest to her apartment.

"I don't have to, Emily. But, I want to." He told her. "Now stay put, I'll be right back." He said before heading into the store to get everything on JJ's list.

After he got her up to her apartment he heated up a hot water bottle, gave her extra strength pills for her fever and a spray for her throat. He then tucked her into her bed, saying he'd take the couch. He had told Jessica that he wouldn't be home that night and had talked to Jack before laying down on Emily's couch, pulling a blanket over himself.

Emily held the hot water bottle to herself tightly and wished for some kind of human comfort as she fell into the darkness of her own subconscious again.

She was laying on the queen sized bed at the villa. Only wearing her underwear and an oversized t-shirt of Ian's. The aforementioned man had just come out of the bathroom to join her on their bed. He laid down beside her pulling the comforter over both of them.

"I love you." He told her as he captured her lips with his, running a hand through her hair.

"I love you too." She had told him in between kisses. Their kisses became more passionate when suddenly the room transformed and she has pressed against concrete floor, the same hands locked around her throat, the same blue eyes focused in fury. She let out a small scream as she tried to kick the heavier man off of her but to no avail as her vision blurred and she struggled harder and harder to breathe.

Hotch quickly jumped awake at the sound of Emily screaming, reaching for his glock he barged into the room expecting some kind of offender but was only met with more screams as Emily seemed to be fighting off an imaginary attacker. He went to try and wake her when she swung her arm, knocking him straight in the nose. He stopped momentarily before yelling her name and her eyes shot open, immediately focusing on his now bleeding nose. He ignored his nose and asked Emily is she was okay. She didn't look it, but nodded, getting up out of bed to ask if he was okay. He said he was but wasn't quick enough to stop her as she headed into the bathroom, wetting a face cloth for his nose. She instructed him to tilt his head back and he said he would if she got back in bed. She did and he sat down next to her, tilting his head back like she said to.

"Look at us, Hotch. Taking care of each other like this." She let out a laugh. "Sorry for hitting you." She told him, giving him a small smile.

"It's fine, really. I'm okay." He told her. She simply nodded at him, thinking back to that dream she had. Ian Doyle was dead. It was a fact she had to remind herself of whenever she had dreams or nightmares of him. Sometimes she had dreams where he was Ian, Lauren's fiancée and Declan's father. But then there were the nightmares where he was Doyle, the man who wanted Emily dead. Hotch was asking if she was okay, asking if she wanted to talk about it. She wasn't okay, she did want to talk about it but she simply muttered an 'I'm fine' at her superior. She knew she should tell him about how she was feeling, about her nightmares but she was too scared. She was scared she'd be kicked off of the team because of her current mental state and she couldn't risk that. The BAU had always been her dream and she wouldn't let Ian take that away from her.

"Emily?" She perked her head up and by the look on his face, it seemed he'd been trying to get her attention for a while. His nose had stopped bleeding and she was just glad that she hadn't broken it. She still didn't feel the greatest but was glad that her voice was working again.

"What is it?" She asked him.

"Emily, if you don't want to talk about your nightmare I understand but just know that I'm not here as Hotch, your unit chief, I'm here as Aaron, you're friend." He told her, squeezing her hand in his gently. She wanted to cry and tell him everything but she couldn't get past the fact that he was her unit chief and that on his word, she'd could easily be reassigned or even kicked out of the bureau.

"I don't want to be kicked off the team." She finally said.

"You won't be." He told her firmly. "No matter what you tell me, I'll make sure that you stay on the team." And then with a smile he added, "We can't afford to lose you. I can't afford to lose you." That was it for her, she began to cry. She felt weak, crying in front of him like this but her fear was dissolved once he wrapped his arms around her, letting her sob into his chest.

"I don't want to be strong anymore." She whispered as he stroked her hair.

"I know." He whispered back as he let her cry it out. She had been holding everything in ever since that fateful night when Doyle stabbed her through with a table leg. She thought that was the end, she thought she was going to die that night as she lay bleeding. She felt like she deserved to after the mess she'd made for herself and ultimately, her team. She had coded in the ambulance and saw nothing but darkness and felt cold all over. She saw no light, felt no warmth as her heart stopped. After that she was taken into surgery and after that she awoke in a hospital bed where she was hooked into a bunch of machines that kept her alive. She felt weak and tired and it wasn't until weeks later, when she was able to lift her head from her pillow and speak when she was told about her situation. She was dead. Dead to the people she loved the most. But it was just a continuation of what she'd been doing, it was protecting them.

Then there was Paris, where she waited for news of Doyle, tried to track him down but came up empty on every front. She was alone, unable to talk to anyone except JJ, who played scrabble with her from time to time but she was still alone, and she missed everyone. And then when she came back, she knew everyone would be feeling betrayed. But she expected the blame and frustration to be taken out on her, not on Hotch and JJ, her secret keepers.

Even after two months, she was still never directly yelled at for her betrayal. Even before her faked death, she had been lying to them. She had abandoned them in hope of saving them, not looking back as she'd exited the bullpen that day, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. But, she did it all to protect them. She had to keep her only family safe from the life she'd lived with Doyle.

She knew that Hotch was the same way. She remembered how with Foyet he had closed everyone out, not wanting to talk about it. She'd seen him lose everything. He'd still lost Haley even though he tried so hard to protect her. She feared that same thing would happen if she let the team in, that they would all be killed. Foyet and Doyle had that in common, that they both knew who was important to her and Hotch and wanted to take that away before attacking them. They wanted to make sure they had nothing left to live for when they killed them. They wanted them to suffer.

They were also very different. Foyet stalked Hotch because he wouldn't except his deal, because he was egotistical and liked to play with Hotch's head. Doyle wanted her dead because she had betrayed him and he also thought that Declan had been killed and that it was her fault. She understood why he'd wanted her dead. She had loved him, promised to marry him and then it all came crashing down with the truth as he was arrested and found out that Lauren Reynolds was a lie. When he found out Declan and Louise had been killed as a result of her betrayal.

And now she had finally broke down and cried it all out. She hadn't cried a single tear since that night in Boston. She was never much of a cryer, so when she did cry, she could cry for hours. She was always alone growing up and had no one to count on until Matthew had come around, but after Rome when she'd moved back to the states she had no one again, she'd resorted to cutting herself to feel some relief from all the weight she carried on her shoulders. She'd lost touch with Matthew and John and at Yale, lost herself in her studies, not making many friends. And then everything changed when she had joined the BAU. She had, little by little, opened herself up and then she'd become part of the family. They became her family and that left her feeling a little better at night when she went home to an empty apartment.

"I'm sorry." Emily muttered, wiping her eyes.

"For what?" Hotch asked as she pulled away from him a bit.

"Crying on you like that, it wasn't professional."

"Emily, you've slept on my arm and punched me in the face, I think we passed 'professional' a long time ago." She couldn't help but laugh at that, although her laugh quickly turned into a coughing fit and Hotch rubbed her back in small circles.

"Do you want to know what my dreams were about?" She asked him, looking into his worried brown eyes as she pulled the blankets up around her.

"If you don't want to tell me-"

"No, I want you to know." She squeezed his hand. "Well, sometimes they're about Ian Doyle, the man who I loved." She paused, but Hotch stayed silent as ever. "And other times they're about Ian Doyle, the man who wanted me dead." She took a deep breath. "I did love him, Hotch. I really did and I loved the little boy who would wake up in the morning by jumping on the bed." She smiled, tearing up a little at the memory.

"Declan?" He asked, and she nodded.

"I always wished it were different. That it wasn't all a lie, that life I lived. Because I truly loved every moment I spent with that man and his son." Tears were rolling down her cheeks now. "But, I knew it had to end. What I never expected was him to come back eight years later with a price on my head. I've been having dreams about him since his death. Whether nightmare or dream, I cry when I wake up. Either because of longing or sadness or out of fear or anger." She let out a small laugh. "He's dead, but I just can't stop thinking about him, Hotch!" Her voice had risen and she was nearly yelling at him. "I don't know what's wrong with me, I'm so sad all the time. I miss my old life. It was never like this before. But, ever since I've gotten back... All the cases that have to do with stabbing or double lives or anything get to me and I can't do my job!"

"Emily, you've got to give yourself some time. It's only been two months. But you still get your job done. You're a survivor, Emily, not a victim. You can overcome this because you're strong, you're so strong, Emily." And with that, he hugged her tightly, wishing he would never have to go. He pulled away to check if she still had a fever and although it had gone down, he made her take more Tylenol. He tucked her back into bed and turned to go back to her couch.

"Aaron." The use of his first name made him smile as he turned to look at her.

"Yes?" He asked, walking back to the side of the bed.

"Would you... Stay here with me? Please?" She asked quietly. He smiled and crawled into bed with her. Unexpectedly she turned to face him and wrapped her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her as she curled into his chest.

"Goodnight, Emily." He whispered her and without thinking, kissed her forehead lightly. A small smile crept onto her lips.

"Thank you for everything, Aaron." She whispered. "Goodnight."


End file.
